7 Deadly Sins
by reignofhavok
Summary: Seven fics based on the deadly sins, featuring Havok and Icarus.
1. Wrath

Rather than posting all these stories seperately, I'll post each as a chapter. They're part of my 7 Deadly Sins challenge, featuring Havok/Icarus. Strange pairing you ask? Yes, but fun to write ;)

**Wrath **

Havok stood at the foot of the cathedral, looking up at its bleak doors. The front entrance was scrawled with various anti-mutant graffiti, but it went unnoticed. Rain fell around him, soaking his hair to his face. But he didn't feel the cold. Might never feel the cold again. Only the heat. The burning, raging fire inside. Unlike most, this was a literal fire, just dying to get out.

Everything had happened so quickly, no one was sure of the exact events. But that didn't matter. Havok knew the one thing he needed. Stryker had done it. Reverand William Stryker. The self proclaimed man of God. The man of God who had tried to kill an angel. His Icarus.

They'd found his body, broken and bloodied on the front entrance of the mansion. His wings were gone, his body beat up. Whatever torture he'd undergone, it had made him almost utterly incomprehensible. Havok had managed to pry just one word from him as he sat vigil by his beside. Stryker.

Walking up the stairs, he let the rage fill him, take over all other emotion, feed the power he contained within him. It wasn't hard. Just the mere thought of the bloodied body they'd come across was enough. His palms burned, itched with excitement. He could almost feel the wood itself burning up under his feet as he walked by.

He kicked in the doors, a loud echo resounding through the room. The place looked abandoned, but that was just part of the cover. Stryker was here, of that much he was certain. He strode across the room, senses on high alert, his vision red. Burning. Only burning.

He grabbed a nearby vase, absent mindedly melting it with a touch. He smiled.

A sound. So close, yet muffled. He turned his towards the noise, something behind a nearby door. Stryker never was the smartest of men. He kicked it open in a fury of splinters and wood. He was greeted by the end of a gun.

"Come to repent for your sins my son?"

Stryker. Havok grinned an almost feral smile.

"Yeah. Something like that."

He could feel the very air itself surrounding him burning up, melting, changing form, becoming super hot. Becoming plasma. Not the nicest thing to be hit with, that's for sure. A substance that fuelled the sun itself.

He put his hand up, directing it instantly in Stryker's direction. Years of practice had given him near expert control, and he wasn't going to let this go down quickly. Stryker was going to suffer. Suffer the way his broken angel was still suffering. With interest.

"Aaaagggghhh!"

Stryker dropped to his knees, Havok strolling casually over. "What in the... what have you done to me!" He held up his hand, the gun melted onto it and down his forearm.

"I'm sorry, did you need that hand? I didn't realise. Funny that, how body parts seem to keep going missing these days."

Stryker looked up, a sudden recognition dawning in his eyes. It was the confirmation Havok needed. It was done.

"You're here about the boy..." Stryker rasped between heavy breaths. Even despite his great pain the bastard still managed a smile. "Such a beautiful boy, one God would be happy to take into his graces. You should be happy, I did him a favour."

Havok stood on his melted hand, pressing it into the ground. Stryker let out a scream.

"You call that a favour? You cut off his wings! You tortured him until he was broken and bloody and didn't even know left from right! This is what your God favours!"

Stryker held onto his arm, trying to fight the pain. "His wings were an abomination from the devil. He pleaded for me to help him... so I did."

Havok dug his heel in, eliciting another scream. The pain filled him with morbid joy.

"I can help you too... if you want..." Stryker looked up, a vague smile trying to push through the pain his body was feeling.

"How exactly would you do that?" Havok asked, humouring him. He pushed down just a little harder to get his point across.

"We... we have our ways," the Reverand smiled.

That smug grin... it deserved to be wiped off his self righteous face.

Havok removed his foot and kicked him in the chest, sending him spiralling backwards. He was on the preacher in an instant, grabbing his shirt and pulling his face toward his.

"Well then I'll make you a deal, Reverand. You 'fixed' up my friend, so I'm gonna help you out too. You see, no good deed goes unpunished. You can ask your God up close and personal whether this is what he really wants. If this really is the will of your God, well tell him to expect a whole lot more people before this ordeal is over. Because the X-Men won't take this lying down. Alex Summers won't take this lying down. You can tell him that face to face."

Stryker grinned, his eyes maniacal. "Do it, boy. If the Lord wills it, so it shall be."

Havok smiled back. "It's already done."

Stryker looked down at the hand holding his shirt, the telltale signs of heat turning the air into waves around him. Within moments the world was naught but heat and darkness. With one last ear piercing scream the good Reverand left the world to greet his maker.

Havok stood up, surveying the mess before him. A certain satisfaction burned inside, but something was still missing. The anger began to die, replaced by a stronger, more crippling feeling. Sorrow. Not for Stryker, but for the young man waiting back on the operating table, his very life still hanging in the balance.

"I'll fix this Jay," he muttered, stepping over the pile of ash and back towards the pouring rain. "That's a promise."


	2. Sloth

**Sloth **

Alex Summers rolled over, slightly miffed when the body he was expecting wasn't there. He let out a small groan, using up all his effort to open his eyes and look around the room.

"Why aren't you in bed?" he groaned, his voice still husky. Jay Guthrie was standing in the corner, looking out into the yard outside. Sun shone through the window, casting a healthy glow across his tanned chest. He turned around.

"Don't you have a mission today? Saving the world or whatever it is you like to call it," a small smile played at the corner of his lips.

Alex turned over to look at the clock. 7 am. He groaned again. "The world can save itself. Now you, back to bed."

Jay shook his head, turning to look back into the sunshine outside. "I really should be getting back to my room.

Putting his arms underneath his head, Alex waited for his eyes to adjust to the light. "Alright," he began. "I'll make you a deal. I'll go out and save the world if you'll come back to bed."

He could see Jay smiling, but he didn't reply. Alex waited, feeling himself drifting back to sleep already. Early mornings were for suckers.

Suddenly he felt a body straddling his waist, hands on either side of his head. "I see reason has won through," he smiled, not bothering to open his eyes. Soft lips pressed down on his own, a gentle, almost chaste kiss. They began to move down his jawline, towards his neck. Alex smiled. This was how you started a morning.


	3. Pride

**Pride **

"You know, pride comes before the fall! ... Showoff ..." Alex Summers muttered to himself as one of the Institute's students, one Jay Guthrie, flew around above his head. He twisted and turned in the air, performing dives, spinning and generally acting recklessly, simply because he could. And he knew it annoyed him.

Jay flew over his head again, a gust of wind ruffling his hair. "You just wish you were me," he smiled, arms behind his head as if the whole thing were no more stressful than watching a movie.

"And now you're delusional," Alex raised an eyebrow. "Look, I'm here to teach you hand to hand combat, if you prefer I could just leave and let you do... whatever it is you like to do up there all by yourself."

Taking a few more spins in the air he landed with the grace of a dancer right next to Alex's feet. He smiled, his handsome face lighting up from the exhilaration of it all. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Alex stared at him for a few moments before shaking his head. Time to focus. He ignored his statement. "Do you want this training or not?" Bantering with this kid only ended up in one place; bed. He wasn't going to let this little showoff win today. He was always far too proud of the fact he could control and whens and wheres of things, it was time to get the ball back in his court... so to speak.

Jay raised his eyebrows in an 'eh, whatever' motion. It was all the confirmation Alex needed. He quickly grabbed Jay around the neck, twisting and dropping his body in one swift motion to the ground, holding him in a tight headlock. Jay struggled, but Alex held on.

"Your wings might be useful up there, but down here..." he pulled tighter as Jay struggled. Pain and anger etched across his face. Alex smiled. "That's right, feel the anger, use it."

He swung a leg out but was unable to get a hit. He groaned as he struggled. Alex smiled again. Not so cocky anymore. He charged up the air around his locked fists, heating up Jay's neck and shoulders.

"Hey, hey!" he screamed, struggling even harder. Alex shook his head. "You realise that by now you're dead, right? From the instant I took you to the ground you were dead."

He loosened up his grip just a little, giving him space to breath. He powered down. Jay grimaced, his hands coming up to hold onto Alex's arms.

"Okay flyboy. Consider that your first lesson. Don't be such a cocky little bastard. You want that training now?"

Jay looked up at him, his head pressed so closely against his chest. A faint grin appeared on his lips. Close combat. Sweaty bodies. After hours homework. His own personal tutor with no prying questions asked. It was almost too good to be true.

"You betcha."


	4. Envy

**Envy **

Alex Summers stood by the window, watching the students as they mulled about in the yards. Well, watching one student in particular. Messy red hair. Lithe body. Large red wings. He was kinda hard to miss.

He watched as he effortlessly pushed his way through the mass of bodies, the grace of a dancer despite the large obstructions he carried on his back. Such a perfect creature, seemingly put on this earth with the sole purpose to drive him crazy.

A bunch of girls had somehow managed to stop him from his quest, laughing and flirting shamelessly. Alex frowned. One of them brushed a lock of hair away from Jay's face, letting her finger trail just too long down his cheek. Jay smiled at her, enjoying the attention. Why shouldn't he?

Anger flared. Alex had no claim on the boy, but that didn't change the fact it still filled him with rage. How easy it was for those girls down there, no qualms about walking up to a handsome young man and flirting as though the world was about to go up in flames. No fear of reprisal, no fear of losing their job, their livelihood, their family and friends.

They had it so easy and they didn't even realise it. It made him even angrier. Both the jealousy of the touch and the envy of the touch. To be able to show such public affection... it wasn't possible. Could never be possible. Their relationship... it was destined to forever remain in the dark, secret and forbidden until one day one of them tired of the games and just up and left.

He snapped the pencil he was holding in two, letting it crumble to the ground. It was time for a Danger Room visit.


	5. Lust

**Lust**

This part of the challenge is rated NC-17, thus, if you want to read it you can find it over at Adult Fanfiction. Thanks.


	6. Gluttony

**Gluttony **

"Well aren't you just a glutton for punishment?"

Jay Guthrie lay on his bed, arms folded behind his head as he smiled at the man standing in his doorway. Alex Summers. Hothead of the X-Men, prone to go crazy without a moment's notice. Part of the reason why Jay liked him so much really.

"Shut up Jay," Alex walked in and closed the door behind him. Ever since the two of them had begun seeing each other it had always been on Jay's terms. His time, his place, his whim. And Alex had let him.

Maybe he was a glutton for punishment. For the pain, the angst, the overwhelming emotions that always flooded through him whenever he just thought about the younger man. He couldn't help himself. When Jay told him to jump, he did it. Just thinking about him brought up such feelings he didn't even realise he could feel. Sometimes didn't want to feel.

But that wasn't Alex Summers. And that especially wasn't Havok. This couldn't go on any longer, he was losing himself to the other man. It was one thing to change for a person. It was another thing to change yourself entirely.

Alex jumped on the bed and forcefully grabbed Jay's face, kissing him with such fierce passion that even he was slightly scared. Jay opened his mouth to protest but Alex silenced him, a determined look burning in his eyes.

"No more," he almost growled, his lips still so close to Jay's. "It's always been your way or the highway and I've let it continue. No more. From now on, I'm not gonna jump when you say jump. I'm not gonna come running because you feel bored. If you want something, you come see me. I'm a busy man Jay. You better find the time yourself."

With another passionate kiss Alex stood up and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Jay sat up on the bed, eyebrow raised, highly confused and more than a little turned on.

"What the hell was that all about?"


	7. Greed

**Greed **

Jay Guthrie stared out the window into the bright daylight outside. Such a beautiful day for flying yet they were couped up in the classroom learning some boring history lesson. He knew enough about the X-Men before he even came to the school, his two older siblings before him had been involved in quite a few of the missions they were teaching them about.

A body outside caught his eye. A small smile appeared unconsciously on his lips. It was Alex Summers, running around the nearby track in just his training shorts. Jay eyed him appreciatively. So tall, well muscled, broad shoulders, the perfect specimen of man.

Add that to the fact he was totally unpredictable, a livewire, and Jay couldn't help himself. He wanted the man. Needed the man. It bordered on absolute greed at times, wanting to have him entirely to himself and never letting the outside world in again.

Their brief moments together were unrivalled. Fiercely passionate, utterly tender, the simple act of looking conveying more than words ever could. No words had to be said. It was what was unsaid that mattered.

As Jay watched him run around the track, feet beating on the ground, muscles contracting, sweat covering his body, he realised once again that he had to have that man. He really did need him, it was more than a simple desire. Dare he say it, he loved him. It was something more than pure lust. It was the man on the inside, the one who intrigued him and left him wanting more long after they'd satisfied their carnal urges.

He had to have this man. Find out more about him. Grab on and never let him go. Was it greed, or something more? Did it really matter in the end?


End file.
